


Eyes Wide Open

by BearlyWriting



Series: Bad Things Happen Bingo [1]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Bad Things Happen Bingo, Flashbacks, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Prompt: Seizures, Seizures, Shiro (Voltron) Has PTSD - Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-08
Updated: 2019-02-08
Packaged: 2019-10-24 14:45:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,361
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17706254
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BearlyWriting/pseuds/BearlyWriting
Summary: “Hunk is looking right at Shiro, so he sees the flashback come on. Sees Shiro’s eyes glaze and his shoulders tense. Then, as if he’s been electrocuted, Shiro’s whole body goes stiff. His arms curl up by his chest. His head jerks. Shiro makes a strange noise - a loud, high cry - that sounds as if it’s been punched out of him, and abruptly falls backwards.”For the prompt “Seizures” for the Bad Things Happen Bingo.





	Eyes Wide Open

**Author's Note:**

> I did some research on seizures but I don’t have any actual experience with them, so let me know if I got something wrong!

It’s been a rough couple of weeks. Even by galactic, alien-fighting, space-lion standards. It seems that every day a new planet needs Voltron - as if the moment any of the Paladins even think about getting a little bit of sleep, another distress call comes in.

It’s stretching them all thin. Hunk suspects that Allura would very much like to let them take a day off to rest - if only to stop the constant arguments - but taking a day off means letting people die and none of them are comfortable with that. Even if sometimes Hunk thinks he would kill to get just an hour of shut-eye.

It’s not surprising then, that Keith and Lance are having an almost-physical shouting match across the table at dinner.

Normally Shiro would have broken the argument up by now - Hunk is surprised that he’s letting it drag on so long, but when he glances over, Shiro isn’t even looking at them. He’s staring at his plate with wide, blank eyes, empty fork gripped tightly in his left hand. It’s shaking.

Oh no. Shiro’s obviously having some kind of flashback. That’s just the cherry on top of an already awful cake.

“Shiro?” Hunk asks, quiet enough that the others hopefully won’t hear him over the noise of the argument. The flashbacks aren’t something that Shiro particularly likes drawing attention to. If Hunk doesn’t have to alert the others, he’s not going to. 

Shiro doesn’t react. That’s...also not good. That means it’s probably a bad one. Hunk scoots closer but carefully doesn’t touch him.

“Shiro? Can you hear me?”

Shiro’s head jerks. Now that Hunk’s closer he can hear the Black Paladin’s throat working in strange, dry swallows. The hand holding the fork sets it down, picks it up again, then sets it down - as if Shiro is trying to eat without actually scooping up any of the goo. 

Hunk can’t help but wonder what he’s seeing, even though the speculation is morbid, and he knows that Shiro would hate it if he knew. It’s hard, though, to watch Shiro having a flashback and not know what’s going through his head. 

Then, abruptly, Shiro’s hand jerks and releases the fork with a clatter. Hunk flinches without meaning to, but thankfully Shiro doesn’t seem to notice, just reaches up to tug at the neck of his shirt, as if he’s struggling to breathe.

“Shiro?” Hunk tries again, a little desperately.

Shiro’s head twitches again. Then his prosthetic hand jerks, scraping against the table, and flickers as if Shiro is about to light it up.

That catches the others’ attention. The argument dies so suddenly that it’s almost as though it never started. Hunk scoots back, even as Keith shifts closer. He’s never seen one of Shiro’s flashbacks get violent, but he knows it happens. They all do.

“Woah,” Lance gasps from across the table. “Shiro, buddy, are you OK?”

For a long moment Shiro doesn’t answer. His eyes are still fixed on the plate, although Hunk is sure that he’s not actually seeing it. Hunk can still hear him swallowing. Keith shifts even closer, although he still doesn’t touch him, and there’s so much naked concern on his face that it makes Hunk’s chest hurt.

Then Shiro blinks. His eyelids flutter and both hands go abruptly limp.

“Shiro?” Keith asks, hesitantly.

Shiro blinks again. Tilts his head. Lance turns back to the table to engage Pidge in another loud discussion. Whatever other people think, Hunk knows Lance isn’t stupid - the last thing Shiro will want right now is everyone staring at him.

“Hey Shiro,” Hunk offers, voice quiet. He scoots closer again now that the danger has passed, but leaves enough space between them that hopefully Shiro won’t feel threatened. “You with us?”

Shiro hums, although he’s definitely more with it now. He flexes his arm. When nothing unusual happens he looks up, glances between Hunk and Keith and offers them both a weak smile.

“Hey.” The smile fades into a frown. “What’s wrong.”

Keith huffs and sits back in his chair with a scowl. Now that the flashback has passed he seems to have relaxed a little, but Shiro must still see the concern on his face. “I think we’re supposed to be asking you that.”

Shiro’s frown deepens. He turns to glance hesitantly at Hunk.

“Why?” he asks, and Hunk’s stomach drops. Shiro’s eyes still look strangely glazed and there’s an odd blue tinge to his skin.

“You just had a pretty bad flashback,” Hunk offers, gently, and risks laying a hand on Shiro’s shoulder. He doesn’t flinch away from it. Keith is still scowling over his other shoulder.

Shiro winces and Hunk catches the flicker of his eyes as he glances at the prosthetic. “Did I? Sorry, I didn’t-“

“You didn’t hurt anyone,” Keith interrupts. “So you can stop worrying.”

“You mostly just stared blankly at the plate,” Hunk adds.

Shiro winces again and curls his prosthetic closer to his chest. Hunk kind of wants to hug him, but he’s sure that it wouldn’t be appreciated at this exact moment. So he settles for running his hand over the top of Shiro’s back instead.

“Do you not remember it?” Keith asks.

Shiro tenses - although Hunk doubts he would notice it if he didn’t have a hand on him - and rubs his hand roughly across his face. 

“No.” He swallows. Hunk isn’t sure if he believes him, but if Shiro doesn’t want to talk about it he isn’t going to force him.

Shiro smiles tightly at both Keith and Hunk when neither of them move, and scoops up a forkful of food goo with a hand that’s surprisingly steady.

“Honestly guys, I’m fine,” he says, and somehow manages to sound it.

Keith scowls, but he shifts back a little to give Shiro more room, and turns his attention back to his plate instead. Letting his hand drop, Hunk does the same. 

When he tunes back into the conversation, Lance shoots him a questioning look, clearly paying more attention than his loud conversation with Pidge would imply. Hunk lifts one shoulder in a shrug. It’s hard to keep his gaze from sliding back to Shiro. To keep from checking up on him - at least, that’s how Shiro would see it. When he gives in to the impulse, Shiro is spooning his goo methodically into his mouth, eyes fixed on his plate. His other hand rests lightly on his temple, as if he wants to rub at it, as if his head is hurting.

Hunk glances away before Shiro can catch him looking. 

 

***

 

Shiro’s flashbacks get worse. Before, they would come sparingly and the triggers were more obvious. Now they seem to come on without warning. One moment Shiro will be standing with the others at the bridge, then his eyes will go wide and blank for seemingly no reason. Sometimes he’ll just stand there, staring blankly at something the others can’t see. Sometimes he’ll wander aimlessly. Occasionally his arm will flicker into life. 

If there’s a reason for the flashbacks, Hunk can’t tell what it is, and whenever he comes out of one, Shiro seems confused. Groggy. He doesn’t seem to be able to remember what he sees during them. It’s utterly different from the way Shiro had acted during the first few flashbacks Hunk had witnessed - when Shiro’s suddenly returning memories had at least been useful, even if they were terrifying.

He has one whilst piloting the Black Lion and doesn’t even seem to notice. Thankfully they’re only doing a training drill, but it’s still disconcerting for Shiro to suddenly fade out in the middle of offering Lance directions. One moment he’s speaking normally, then he stops, lets out a quiet groan, and goes silent. His comms are still working, but all they can hear are his rough, irregular breaths.

“Shiro?” Lance prompts, waiting for their leader to finish. But Shiro doesn’t respond.

Hunk turns Yellow in the air. Black doesn’t seem in any trouble - hovering a little way away. She’s swaying slightly, as if Shiro’s hands aren’t quite steady on the controls, but there’s no obvious cause for concern. Pidge lowers Green down beside her and nudges her gently but neither Black nor Shiro give any response.

“Shiro?” Keith asks, much more sharply than Lance had done.

“Is he having a flashback?” Pidge asks. Her voice is pitched low, as though she doesn’t want Shiro to hear her - though he can’t exactly miss her transmitting through the group comms. Unless he is having a flashback of course.

“I don’t know,” Hunk brings Yellow closer, just in case he has to catch the other lion if something actually is wrong.

Shiro’s breath hitches audibly over the comms, then: “-to the right, Lance. Oh-“

The Black Lion doesn’t jerk, at least, but they can all hear the surprise in his voice. 

“Welcome back,” says Lance, obviously aiming for jokey but not quite reaching it. Blue is hovering close to the Black Lion’s face and Lance twists away to give Shiro more room, even though Hunk and Pidge are still practically glued to Black’s shoulders.

“You OK?” Keith asks, sounding very much like he’d rather be on a private comm.

Shiro masks his discomfort pretty well, says, “I’m fine,” and sounds it. He tilts Black upwards, distancing himself a little from Hunk and Pidge.

“Let’s just get back on with the exercise.”

Lance lets out a theatrical groan that is pretty obviously just an attempt to break the tension. Hunk appreciates it anyway. He wishes he could see Shiro - to make sure he really is OK - but the Black Lion’s face is as cool and emotionless as Shiro’s voice and Hunk can’t glean anything from it. Not that he’s sure he could read Shiro’s either.

Still, if Shiro says he’s fine, Hunk isn’t going to argue with him.

 

***

 

It all comes to a head at the end of a particularly busy couple of days. The Paladins are all at the bridge for an informal debriefing from Coran and Allura. Hunk is looking right at Shiro, so he sees the flashback come on. Sees Shiro’s eyes glaze and his shoulders tense. Then, as if he’s been electrocuted, Shiro’s whole body goes stiff. His arms curl up by his chest. His head jerks. Shiro makes a strange noise - a loud, high cry - that sounds as if it’s been punched out of him, and abruptly falls backwards.

Hunk has never heard Shiro make a sound like that before. It shoots through his chest, makes his skin tighten and prickle with fear. He jerks forward but he’s too far away to catch him and Shiro doesn’t bother trying to catch himself. Or maybe he can’t.

When he hits the floor - hard - his head bounces off the metal with an audible crack. He isn’t wearing a helmet. The sound sends another nauseating chill over Hunk’s skin.

Keith is faster than Hunk. Not fast enough to catch him, either, but he’s beside Shiro before Hunk can even process the fact that Shiro’s on the floor, practically sliding the whole way on his knees. Once he’s next to him, he hesitates, as if afraid to touch him, and asks: “Shiro?” in a voice that seems too loud.

Shiro doesn’t respond. His eyes are open but they’re rolled back in his skull, so only the whites and a sliver of his dark irises are visible. His whole body is shaking, jerking rhythmically as his muscles convulse. It looks painful. The movement reminds Hunk uncomfortably of a landed fish.

“What happened?” That’s Lance. He’s surprisingly close and Hunk starts at the voice right by his ear. He hadn’t realised the others had moved. Lance sounds scared. “What’s happening?”

“He’s seizing,” Pidge says. She sounds scared too. She kneels by Shiro’s head and her hands flutter like little birds but don’t actually make contact.

Fingers grip Hunk’s arm, surprisingly strong, and Lance says, “seizing? Should we put something in his mouth?”

“That’s a myth.” For a moment Hunk doesn’t even realise that he’s speaking. He feels very far away from his own body. From the goosebumps prickling his bare arms and the buzz of pins and needles in his fingers. Because Shiro is still on the floor, and he’s still shaking, and Hunk doesn’t know how to make it better.

“Here-“ Coran appears as if from nowhere, dropping to one knee beside Keith and carefully lifting the Black Paladin’s head. He slips a bundle of something soft underneath it, deftly avoiding one of Shiro’s flailing limbs, and gently presses Keith backwards. “Don’t touch him. I’m afraid we’ll have to just wait for it to pass.”

Keith scowls. Clearly, he’s not happy to sit back and do nothing. Keith never is. He opens his mouth, no doubt to argue back and-

Shiro jerks again, harder than before, and bloody foam trickles down his chin. His prosthetic scrapes across the ground with an awful metal-on-metal screeching sound. Hunk winces and Keith’s head whips around, his face going so pale that for a moment Hunk is afraid he’s going to faint.

“He’s bleeding!” Lance gasps as more blood froths out of Shiro’s mouth. His fingers grip Hunk’s arm tight enough to bruise.

Then Shiro’s prosthetic arm jerks, curls in tight against his chest, shakes with the tension. It flickers. Once, twice, and finally lights up, still pressed against Shiro’s chest.

“Shit!” It’s strange, hearing the English swear word burst out of Pidge’s mouth - Hunk’s gotten used to quiznack - but he doesn’t pause to think about it too much. He and Lance start forward at the same time, but they’re still not as fast as Keith, who grips Shiro’s bicep with two hands and tugs.

Pidge’s hands land on Shiro’s shoulders but he’s still seizing and both Keith and Pidge are competent fighters but they can’t compete against Shiro’s pure muscle and neither of them seem able to pry the arm away. Hunk moves to help, placing one hand gently on Shiro’s shoulder and gripping his arm with the other - well away from the prosthetic - but he’s afraid to put too much pressure behind it. What if he hurts Shiro? What if he makes it worse?

“Careful!” says Allura, and her voice is strangely shrill. “Don’t hurt him.”

There’s an awful sizzling noise. Shiro’s hand is searing right through his shirt. Hunk thinks he smells burning flesh and has to suppress a gag.

“He’s burning himself,” Keith gasps, sounding desperate. “We have to-“

Only, Keith doesn’t get to say what they have to do, because Shiro’s arm lashes out, still burning bright violet, and Keith has to fling himself backwards to avoid taking a hit. Pidge makes an aborted motion, as if she isn’t sure whether to reach for Keith or duck in the other direction. When Keith rolls back to his knees, his eyes are wide and white in his head. Coran reaches for him, clasps a hand on Keith’s shoulder, half-reassurance and half-restraint.

“How long has he been seizing?” Pidge asks. She’s scooted back, well away from the danger of Shiro’s flailing limbs.

“I don’t know,” Lance says. He’s still surprisingly close behind Hunk. “Is anyone counting?”

Hunk hasn’t been. He can’t even think of how long it might have been. It feels like an eternity but it can’t have actually been that long. How long is too long for a seizure? Hunk doesn’t know. Shiro is still going.

Shiro’s back flexes, pressing his head back hard against the floor. Then he goes limp. The prosthetic arm shuts off and falls, fingers open, at his side. His eyelids flutter - the same way they do when he’s coming out of a flashback. Only, Hunk’s starting to think that they might not have been flashbacks after all, all those strange episodes that Shiro’s been having - maybe they were seizures instead. The thought isn’t particularly reassuring.

“Shiro?” Hunk asks. He’s leaning over the Black Paladin, his hand, Hunk realises, is still pressed against his shoulder.

Shiro’s eyes flicker under hooded lids. He blinks. Blinks again. Then they fix on Hunk, glazed and unfocused.

“Hey Shiro,” Hunk tries to smile reassuringly. “Are you with us?”

Shiro’s head rolls loosely on his shoulders as he glances around at the others, who are all looming over him. He frowns.

“‘M fine,” Shiro slurs and tries to push himself upright. Hunk presses down gently on the shoulder he’s still holding, pinning Shiro back against the floor. It’s surprisingly easy.

“That’s right, number one,” Coran says, cheerfully. He rearranges the cloth beneath Shiro’s head and Shiro’s eyes slide towards him. “You’ve had a seizure. We’ll get you up in just a minute.”

Then Coran slides out of his jacket. Weird. There aren’t many times that Hunk can recall seeing the Altean without it. He shuffles forward and lays it over Shiro’s lap, but not before Hunk catches sight of the dark stain on the front of Shiro’s trousers. The sight makes Hunk’s chest clench painfully. The others must see it too because Keith hisses between his teeth, and Lance’s fingers find Hunk’s arm again and squeeze. Hunk lets him - it’s almost a relief to focus on the physical pain, rather than the crushing ache in his chest.

Shiro must be coming back to himself, because his eyes track Coran’s movement, and when he glances back up at them, his cheeks are flushed a bright, angry red. Hunk wishes that he could make this better. That he could somehow make it so that Shiro doesn’t have to remember any of this happening. That he could make it so that it never happened in the first place.

One of Shiro’s hands - the flesh one - comes up to wipe clumsily at the blood on his mouth. It’s trembling, but not the way it had been during the seizure. He swallows, says, “what happened?”, and mostly manages not to slur this time.

Keith leans over too, carefully avoiding the wetness on the floor. “You had a seizure, Shiro.”

Shiro blinks again. It’s hard to tell whether he actually understands them or not. But this time, when he pushes himself upright, Hunk lets him, turning his hand to hover at the Black Paladin’s back in case he needs support instead. The others seem to simultaneously draw closer and further away, straightening up so they’re no longer looming over him, but shuffling close enough to form a tight circle around him.

Shiro offers them a strained smile. Then has to swipe another shaky hand across his mouth when more blood trickles out.

“Think you’re up to standing?” Coran asks, crouching in front of Shiro. At Shiro’s nod he says, “OK, why don’t you get cleaned up and we’ll have a quick look over you. Nothing to worry about I’m sure but it’s probably a good idea to take a look st that burn anyway.”

Shiro glances down at his chest with an odd, surprised expression, as if he’s only just realising that he’s injured. Maybe he is. Shiro has a pretty high pain tolerance - and Hunk doesn’t want to think about why _that_ is. Maybe he’s in shock.

“You hit your head pretty hard on the way down as well,” Coran adds.

“I think I’m fine, honestly,” Shiro says, and stands with surprising ease. The others stand with him, Keith hovering at his side and looking like he wants to grasp Shiro’s arm even though Shiro doesn’t seem to need the support.

Before anyone can protest: “Although, I’m happy to get checked out.” A grimace. “If I can take a shower first.”

Shiro is still holding Coran’s jacket in front of him, trying to cover the worst of the stain. Hunk is studiously avoiding looking at it. 

Coran’s face gets somehow even softer. “Is this the first seizure you’ve had?”

Shiro grimaces - again. “The first that I remember having.” He doesn’t have to say anything else. They all know what he means; if he had had seizures during his year in Galra captivity, he doesn’t remember them now.

“Perhaps you should just stick to a sponge bath then,” Coran says. He glances at Keith, who is still hovering by Shiro’s elbow. “And maybe you should take someone with you. Just in case.”

 

***

 

They don’t all need to be at the medbay for Shiro’s examination. In fact, Shiro would probably prefer if they weren’t. Still, when the Black Paladin re-emerges, looking far more casual than Hunk has ever seen him in a clean pair of sweatpants and a long-sleeved t-shirt, they’re all standing around waiting for him.

The briefest of expressions flickers across Shiro’s face - too quickly for Hunk to tell exactly what it means - before he schools it back into a carefully blank mask. He looks a lot better already. Some colour has returned to his skin and his eyes have lost the awful glazed look.

Keith is behind him, but not hovering like Shiro might collapse again at any moment. Hunk breathes out some of the tension he hadn’t even realised he was holding.

“How are you feeling?” Allura asks when Shiro hesitates in the doorway.

“Fine,” Shiro says. At Allura’s look he adds: “A bit tired.” 

He moves forward at Coran’s encouraging wave and hoists himself onto the metal table. He keeps his face carefully turned away from where the Paladins are standing, but it’s obvious he’s uncomfortable. 

“You guys don’t need to be here.”

“Do you want us to leave?” Lance asks, although even as he says it he’s shifting closer to the table. For a moment Hunk thinks that Shiro is going to say yes. But the Black Paladin shrugs instead.

“You can stay if you want to.”

Hunk takes that as permission to move closer as well. He risks touching Shiro’s arm and is pleased when Shiro offers him a small smile and doesn’t shake him off.

Coran pulls out one of the Altean scanning devices with a flourish and moves it quickly over Shiro’s head and chest. “Shan’t take long, number one, then you can rest up.”

Shiro grimaces, but doesn’t protest. The scanner beeps and Coran pulls it back and squints at the little screen, trying to read the results. He frowns. Then he rummages through a tall metal cabinet to retrieve a different scanner and runs that one over Shiro’s head as well.

“What is it?” Lance asks, leaning forward to try to get a look at the screen. “What’s wrong?”

“Shiro, the flow of your quintessence is...interesting.”

“Interesting?” Shiro asks. There’s a fine thread of concern in his voice that Hunk thinks he wouldn’t have recognised just a few months ago.

Coran nods, eyes still on the scanner’s little screen, and Allura moves up behind him to read the results for herself over his shoulder. She frowns too and flicks an uneasy glance in Shiro’s direction.

“This would certainly explain the seizure,” she agrees.

“What do you mean by interesting?” Shiro asks again.

“The flow of your quintessence has been damaged,” Allura explains. “It can happen for a number of reasons. Coupled with recent stress and lack of sleep, it’s no wonder your body reacted.”

“Damaged?” Shiro repeats. He sounds...strange. Hunk can’t help glancing at his eyes, to make sure they aren’t glazed.

“Yes. Likely by Haggar.” Allura spits the name as though it tastes foul and an odd shiver runs up Hunk’s spine. Damaging quintessence flow? Allura doesn’t seem overly concerned but it sounds bad to Hunk. It’s frightening, and infuriating, to be reminded of how much damage the witch can do - how powerful she is as an adversary.

Shiro stiffens.

“That sounds serious,” Keith says into the suddenly tense silence.

Coran frowns again and runs a hand over his moustache. “Damage to one’s quintessence flow can have some nasty side-effects, yes. But it isn’t life threatening. It can be easily managed.”

He looks at Shiro, face arranged into a reassuring smile. Shiro doesn’t respond.

When Hunk glances at him, his face is pale, eyes wide and glazed. But it’s easy to see, now, the difference between a flashback and a seizure. It’s obvious that Shiro’s experiencing a flashback now. Hunk doesn’t want to know what he’s seeing. Doesn’t want to know what sort of flashback talking about Haggar damaging his quintessence flow could bring on.

He isn’t sure if he should be glad for a flashback instead of a seizure either.

“Shiro?” Coran asks, gently, and Shiro blinks back into awareness with a shudder.

“Sorry,” he says. His voice is rough and his hand shakes a little where it rests on his thigh.

“No need to apologise number one.”

“But why has Shiro only had a seizure now?” Pidge asks, abruptly. “If it’s because of this quintessence damage? We’re stressed all the time.”

“It’s not the first seizure he’s had.” The others turn to stare at Hunk in surprise. He shifts, a little uncomfortable under their stares. “We thought they were like - flashbacks or something. But maybe they were seizures.”

“So you could have been having them for ages and not realising it,” says Pidge.

Shiro just shrugs. Then reaches up to rub tiredly over his eyes. “Can you cure them?” he asks in a small voice. It makes something cold squirm in Hunk’s stomach - Shiro isn’t supposed to sound like that.

“Quintessence damage isn’t easy to heal,” Allura says, frowning.

Coran nods and adds, “we can certainly manage the symptoms though.”

Shiro doesn’t look particularly happy with that answer, but he also looks tired enough to pass out any second, so he just nods. 

“Why don’t you get some rest,” Coran says gently. “You’re not in any danger right now, we can talk about this when you’re feeling better. Just put this on that burn before you go to sleep.”

He presses some ointment into Shiro’s hand, then steps back so that Shiro can slide off the table. The Black Paladin stumbles as he gets to his feet, and Hunk lurches forward and grabs his arm without thinking about it, to try to steady him. Shiro’s hand closes around Hunk’s. He smiles, pats Hunk’s arm, then straightens up.

“Thanks Hunk, I’m fine.”

Hunk isn’t entirely sure he believes him.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed! :)
> 
> I have a tumblr at [bearly-writing](https://bearly-writing.tumblr.com/) if you fancy dropping by for a chat, or to request a Bad Things Happen Bingo prompt!


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